Ninja Gaiden: The Final Emperor
by Synthesis
Summary: A continuation of my previous work 'Holy Vigoor Emperor', but it turned out to be way to long. Anyway, it addresses all the questions left by the few people who actually read NG:HVE, and it came out pretty good. Take a look, it's the conclusion.


**Ninja Gaiden: The Final Emperor**

_The land that the Evil Deity Vigoor once held as his final territory has become this, the land of Vigoor. The treachery of the Dark Dragon also occurred here, and this was where the Ancient Tribes lived. That is why their descendants, us the Fiends, have taken over control of these lands. With this land as a barrier, the power of Vigoor is limited only to this Earth._

_Vigoor__ is the Demon of Destruction and the Deity who creates history; when the decadence of this world has piled up, he will return in a blaze of all-destroying flame and recreate the world. Chaos, like the floods on the banks of a great river, will fulfill this world once again, and we will be the first recipients of this fulfillment. Evolution has and always will begin from here, the land of Vigoor. It has been several hundred years, since the Supreme Fiend Gogohn established what would eventually become the Vigoor Empire here on these lands._

_If a new warrior of the Dragon Lineage shall appear, the Holy Emperor shall be infused with the power of the Evil Deities. After seven days, from the unity of His Majesty with the Dark Dragon once again, we Fiends will be blessed with an exquisite harmony._

**- The Book of the Future**

There was a knock at the door, and he glanced up at it.

"Come in!"

The massive emerald doors slowly slid open, assisted by hydraulics, and a young woman entered. As one of the numerous aides in the Imperial Palace of Zarkhan, she was dressed in the usual attire: a brown vest over a white shirt, a red tie underneath the vest, and a long black skirt reaching past her knees. Male aides dressed almost identically, except sporting black trousers instead of skirts, obviously.

Even before she entered the room, she bowed her head. "Your Excellency! The Imperial Parliament ordered me to remind you that your audience with them is in half an hour."

Holy Vigoor Emperor Xtianius III glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He was surrounded by similar aides, wearing the same outfits, who were frantically measuring him for his royal garments. They were all quite attractive, and were more or less his age. A few hundred years earlier, they probably would have been considered concubines. But thanks to the progressive movements of the 19th and 20th centuries, as well as the strong Socialistic pressure from the Empire's huge neighbors, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, equality between the sexes in Vigoor was more or less like that of Turkey or any other _modern_ nation in the region—a third of the elected members of lower house of Parliament were women.

It was well to note that the Empire was sandwiched between two different Soviet Republics, one of them being Russia itself, which allowed for the USSR to dominate the small nation's politics as it felt necessary. However, the Soviets had never had great interest in the Empire. The knew that Vigoor posed no threat to them: they could reduce the entire country to nuclear grit if they felt the desire. And Vigoor had no real natural resources besides coal and iron, nor was the land of any real strategic value. What Vigoor did have was beautiful, ancient architecture and good overall weather, though the nation's policy towards tourism could be better. More money came in the form of foreign aid from the mostly-benevolent Soviet Union then would ever come from tourism.

Of course, Xtianius III was not thinking about that. He was thinking about which one of the women was reaching up his right leg with some measuring tape.

"Please hold still, your Excellency."

_They're not concubines, remember. They're interns. And this is Vigoor. Interns don't do sexual favors, not even for the Emperor. _

As she continued measuring him for his pants, another woman, this one his age but much taller then he was, began measuring his shoulders. He barely reached to her shoulders, and it was understandable why she had the job (he was taller than most of the other interns). He was about to turn his head, so that his chin wouldn't interfere with the process, when she leaned over and unintentionally pressed her bosom against his face.

With her vest in his face, he mumbled something.

"Sorry, sir, this'll just take a moment, I just need to measure you for a collar..."

_No rush._

The interns continued with their work, until all the necessary measurements were taken, and they scrambled out of the room, doing whatever it was that they had to do next. Finding himself alone, Xtianius III exhaled and sat down on the floor, his legs crossed.

These were not the best of times. A few days ago, an airship had crashed in a fireball somewhere outside Tairon. Somewhere in the city, Ryu Hayabusa was running about, killing MSAT troops at an alarming rate. No one could understand why the shinobi was in Tairon, much less why he was going about on some sort of self-serving killing spree. The Black Ninjas were having one of their periodic frenzies of activity, and Gamov had hinted that they were after the Dark Dragon Blade. As much as he hated Gamov, he still had to consider the possibility of him being right. He had prepared for Hayabusa's rampage, not for several other ninjas. The MSAT were supposed to deal with them, but they were having difficulties...

His thoughts began to drift towards the Dark Dragon Blade, hidden in his personal chambers of Zarkhan, that Lord Doku had delivered to him, just before this whole fiasco had begun. He finally had it, the thing that would let his plans come to fruition.

It wasn't that easy though. Xtianius could feel the power radiating from the giant, surf board-size weapon. He could feel it in his blood. However, it wasn't completely sure about the next step—he hadn't planned this far ahead. He had done his reading, inspecting the various works at the Monastery before the attack, and knew that he, as part of the bloodline of Vigoor, he was the only one who would be able to unlock the Dark Dragon Blade's power. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to go about doing that. He had tried various things: touching the blade, chanting old verses from the monks to it, even spilling his own blood on it (a small pin-prick to the finger was as far as he was willing to go, though) and none of them had worked. He had considered summoning Lord Doku once more, but realized how foolish it would make him look if he asked for help. After all, he was the Holy Vigoor Emperor! The ultimate power of the land! _He came up with the whole damned scheme!_

Even as the Emperor, he didn't have all the answers. Unfortunately, there was no one he could trust. He had already trusted Gamov in order to meet with Doku and acquire the Dark Dragon Blade, something he regretted greatly. Gamov had clearly begun concocting his own schemes, whatever they were. Xtianius' only hope was that his grand scheme would be finished first.

Interrupting his thoughts, the half-dozen aides rushed into the room, each holding some article of the royal garments. He rose to his feet and glanced at them.

"You know, I can dress myself. I'm not my father—I'm of perfectly sound mind."

One of them smiled at him. "Forgive us, your Excellency, but you can't. You must take our word on it, we've been in this palace longer than you have."

He grudgingly admitted they were right.

**II**

When he was finally dressed, he marched through the labyrinth of corridors in Zarkhan, followed by the same female aides whom had dressed him. It was good for them to attend to secession, he decided—they were entitled to know something about how their government operated, before it ceased to do so. Besides, if Parliament had something sensitive to talk about, he'd just have them kicked out.

Strolling down the corridors, much like one might see on the popular television show 'The West Wing', the Emperor and his small entourage passed various individuals. He didn't pay notice until they passed a familiar figure: Special Agent Gamov of the Internal Affairs Bureau. Xtianius III recognized him immediately, with that silly green overcoat and hat, as though he were trying unsuccessfully to blend in with the marble doors. And he was not alone: walking with him was an equally comical looking character, a larger one, sporting a purple cape, hat, and a large, ornamental brass grill. He was one of the few people the Emperor had seen in his life that actually looked more unusual than Gamov.

The two only passed for a second, and Xtianius III glanced briefly at his subordinate, wondering whom his companion was. Their eyes met, and were quickly separated, as the Emperor continued down the hallway to the Parliamentary Chambers.

Once he felt Gamov was out of earshot, or at least too far away to respond, Xtianius spoke to one of the young aides. "The man's a fucking prick."

The aide nearest to him had an expression of surprise on her face. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Never mind, we're here." Before them were the massive stone doors of the Parliamentary Chambers, guarded by two familiar royal guards, each holding bayoneted assault rifles. The rifles were M4 carbines with M203 grenade launchers, both imported the United States (a trial had been held a decade ago by a Parliamentary committee comparing the merits of various rifle models—the American Colt Firearms company won, just narrowly beating out the German Heckler and Koch HK33). The rifles' comically large bayonets, however, were made in the Empire, forged by students of the master smith Murasama.

The sound of nearly a hundred noble's voices murmuring deafened his ears, Xtianius III entered into the Emperor's Post in the Parliamentary Chambers. He sat down at the throne, surrounded by the ninety-seven members of the Vigoorian Imperial Senate, the Upper House of Parliament. He put his hands together and nodded to the Senate Leader, an elderly man dressed in heavy robes. Most of the other members of Parliament were dressed in similar robes or more contemporary attire, blazers, ties, and the like.

The Senate Leader looked away and faced forward at the podium. "With the arrival of his Excellency, the Holy Vigoor Emperor, we begin the four-hundred and fifty-third meeting of the Imperial Senate, February 29th, in the first year of the reign of Emperor Xtianius." He rested both arms on the podium. "Clearly, we have several issues to discuss, so with the permission of his Excellency, I'd like go ahead and introduce the first speaker on today's agenda."

The Senate Leader glanced briefly at Xtianius, who made an apathetic gesture, typical of him, and turned back.

"First on our agenda, Lord Muhammad, and his report on the crash of the Airship _Graft Zeppelin _just outside the capital. Lord Muhammad, you have the floor."

Another elderly man sat up from the ranks of senators, adjusted his glasses. "The senate subcommittee of February 26th has been investigated the crash of the _Graft Zeppelin_ shortly after crossing into Tairon's Airspace, and a conclusion has been decided by the subcommittee leaders, myself included, that the crash was caused by an explosion at the top of the dirigible's structure. The explosion itself ignited the airship's lighter-than-air hydrogen reserves, resulting in an explosion very similar to that of the _Hindenburg _in the year A.D. 1937 in North America, but at a much smaller scale. There have been no located survivors, though witnesses claimed to see a smaller airship bearing the markings of the Internal Affairs Bureau..."

As Lord Muhammad continued with his report, Xtianius sat in his throne, not bothering to hide his boredom. His mind returned to the Dark Dragon Blade. It had been six days since Lord Doku had delivered it to him.

Six days.

**III**

"Please hold still, Rachel-san. You're going to splash me."

"God, would you please be careful with that thing?"

The younger woman grumbled underneath her breath as she blindly adjusted her aim with fire hose. It was a strange assignment, especially for a kunoichi, but Ayane was not one to turn down a direct order from a superior. At present, she was using the hose to wash off the transparent sebaceous substance that covered the Fiend-Hunter Rachel, an acquaintance of her present superior, Ryu Hayabusa. Master Hayabusa had vanished from the cathedral a few hours ago, and not been heard from since, though Ayane did feel some strange vibrations from the cathedral floor on occasion.

At present however, Rachel was not cooperating, and the washing was much harder than it had to be. The older, blond woman sat, nude, her legs crossed, in a secluded part the annex of the Dwoku Monastery. With her back facing Ayane, she had forbidden the younger girl to look at her as she tried to clean her with the hose, as a matter of dignity.

Rachel scrubbed her arms with a small piece of soap taken from the monastery. Whatever the inside of the tentaceled fiend had been made of, it wasn't washing off easily. Another blast of water struck the side of her head, knocking her down.

"Dammit, Ayane!"

"I'm sorry," Ayane retorted sarcastically. "It's _somewhat _difficult to aim this when I'm not allowed to look in the direction I'm shooting."

_And you call yourself a ninja, God. _"Just _be careful_, all right?" She resumed scrubbing her body with the soap. When it seemed as though the clear film that had covered her was mostly gone, she turned back to Ayane, only to catch a blast of water directly in the face.

"....paahhhfff!"

"Excuse me?" Ayane asked, still facing the other direction. "I couldn't understand you, Rachel-san."

"Dammit, TURN IT OFF!"

"Very well then," Ayane announced, twisting the metal nozzle. The water flow decreased, then stopped entirely.

"Good..." Rachel mumbled, spitting out water. "Could you get me something to dry myself?"

Ayane frowned. "Dry yourself?"

"You know. Like a towel. Or something."

There was a pause, and Rachel felt something elastic and flexible strike her back. "What the hell?" She reached around and found her skimpy black bodysuit, dripping wet. "Oh, I see, ha hah. You're really funny, kid."

She didn't receive a response, but the way the sun was rising, one could see Ayane's shadow cast on the ground before her. Rachel grabbed her bodysuit and wrung it, trying to get the water out.

The uncomfortable silence of the moment, as Ayane began collecting the hose into a neat pile, demanded that Rachel break it. "So...you're a ninja, huh?"

No response from Ayane, so Rachel continued. "You know, I heard a girl your age got into a lot of trouble with the Empire not long ago. Something to do with the heir to the Empire."

Rachel tapped the side of her head, trying to get water out of her ears. "She was a ninja too. You know anything about her?"

No response. Rachel turned to look at Ayane. "Hello?" She slowly rose to her feet, then fell down, as a burning sensation went through her body. Her blood was stirring. _They're here._

**IV**

Finally, he was out!

Meeting with the Senate had taken longer than he had been expecting, and Emperor Xtianius found himself itching to leave. After the report concerning the _Graft Zeppelin_, the next speaker gave an evaluation of the two new Mitsubishi Type-90 battle tanks that had been imported from Japan at considerable cost. The two vehicles were for preliminary testing, and were to be evaluated before the military decided to purchase more of them from Japan. According to the representative from the Army, the tanks had performed well in the trials, but Xtianius III really didn't care the least as to how they performed: in a very short time, there wouldn't be anyone around to drive those tanks, much less purchase more.

Fiends lacked the sort of dexterity needed to drive vehicles.

There were other speakers. There was the requisite "We need to do something about those damned shinobi already" speech by General Sadat, of course. He attended every meeting of either houses of Parliament, and always for the same reason. On occasion, he might bring a projector with him, and show photographs of attractive young shinobi, male and female, followed by forensic photographs of the less-attractive young Imperial soldiers they had hacked to pieces, mostly male. He neglected to do so this time, which was probably a blessing, as everyone had gotten tired of seeing women in short clothing followed by severed limbs.

There was also one announcing the discovery of a fiend in Han's Bar, which momentarily caught the Emperor's notice. Reportedly, a few fiends had been located throughout the city, the most worrying incident being the one that was found in Han's Bar, home of the Vigoorian Underground Intelligence network. The thing had not lived long, as it was soon decapitated by, according to witnesses, a blond woman dressed in what appeared to be a black spandex leotard with a crude weapon.

After that, the rest of the reports were too boring for Xtanius III to bother with.

The Emperor snuck out of the parliamentary chambers during the intermission then ducked in and out of various corridors in the Palace of Zarkhan to make sure he was not being followed. Once clear, he continued to wander about, racking his mind. It was nearly the seventh day, and other than a few fiends appearing here and there, nothing had happened. He knew it wouldn't be long before he started panicking: what if he had been wrong, if all the myths and legends surrounding the Dark Dragon Blade were, just historians claimed, complete and utter crap? The second his mind fully wrapped around that idea, Xtanius told himself, he was going to be reduced from the reincarnated Vigoor to a nervous wreck of a monarch.

_I must be overlooking something. Something has to be done. The Emperor must take some action...but what? They didn't mention anything in any of the books! _He began to feel his fears grip him. No, he mustn't panic...if worse came to worse, he would just stall for time. _Hell, if I want, I'll just take the thing and hack someone apart. That'll buy me some time, I'm sure._

His mental terrors were replaced by images of grabbing the massive Dark Dragon Blade, and walloping Gamov's head off with it, leaving his blood-spurting corpse to fall to the ground. He found himself smiling at the image._ I'll have to remember to kill Gamov last, if possible. And make sure that he gets a particularly horrible death. _

But he had to remain focus, as pleasant as the thoughts were. The more he considered it, the harder it was to suppress his manic grin and chuckle.

"My Excellency, are you all right?"

He turned towards the speaker, surprised. If there was one thing Xtianius III was not known for, it was masculinity. If there was another, it was smiling. Ever. One of the aides, a young lady with long dark hair and glasses, had noticed him laughing in the hallway and it had, appropriately, set off a mental alarm.

Xtianius III coughed into his hand, the easiest way to suppress a smile, if only temporarily. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

She bowed deeply. "Of course, my Emperor." She frowned again. "Are you sure that nothing is wrong?"

He glanced around. In truth, something was the matter. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he had wandered into a part of the Zarkhan Palace that he didn't recognize. The architecture was much older and vaguely sinister looking, yet through what must have been distant windows, he could hear the wind howling. The walls themselves seemed to be heavily covered with strange markings. "As a matter of fact, I seem to have gotten lost," he admitted sheepishly.

She nodded. "Oh, that's not surprising at all, sir. Only the holy monks ever enter this section of the Palace, and rather infrequently."

_The holy monks?_He glanced at her. "And why are you here?"

"Oh, sir, I was given the honor of apprenticing with one of the High Priests."

"So you run errands for him?"

"...uh, I suppose you could say that, my Excellency."

Xtianius nodded, and looked around. It occurred to him that the marks on the walls were not from random wear—they were pictograms of some sort. "So, how long have you been an apprentice?"

"Oh, three years, my lord. Quite some time. The Priests even offered to accept me into their order, if I ever wished so."

He nodded. "I see." He pointed at the symbols. "And what do these hieroglyphs mean, would you know?"

She adjusted her glasses. "Oh, I'm not quite sure, sir...I was only told the synopsis of it...I believe they are the various sagas of the Gogohn. There are many references to him in this area, in the form of statuettes and so forth."

Xtianius nearly choked on his tongue. "Go...Gogohn? You mean, the Supreme Fiend? From the Book of the Future?"

The aide clapped her hands together, excited. "Oh my! You've read that as well! That's wonderful...I thought I was the only one who had read it in years! It's so great to hear of someone else...I mean..." she quieted down. "I'm very happy that you've taken an interest in the subject, my Emperor."

Emperor Xtianius III looked at her oddly. It had been a very long time since he had ever really appreciated the company of another human being, and yet…

He smiled. It was a smile of mixed excitement and malice, but it was still a smile. "It's quite all right. What is your name, out of curiosity? Seeing how you know mine."

She gasped in shock. "Oh, it's Miriam, my Excell..."

"You don't need to call me that, Miriam. Just call me Xtianius." He scratched the back of his head, his thoughts returning, as they always did, to the Dark Dragon Blade. Here was a girl who might be able to solve his predicament, someone he needn't fear stopping him. "Now, Miriam, I'd like to ask you for your help..."

**IV**

"And tell me, Major, has anyone else seen this report?"

Gamov looked up from the opened envelope at his desk, and waited for a response from his subordinate in the Internal Affairs Bureau.

"Not yet, sir."

Gamov nodded. "Good. You're dismissed. I'll inform the Emperor personally. It's critical that we handle this situation as efficiently as possibly."

The subordinate bowed his head and left Gamov's sub-office in the Imperial Palace of Zarkhan. The office's unusual octagonal shape underneath one of the palace domes required that there be four thick columns placed at even intervals along towards the center of the room, with Gamov's desk slightly behind the middle.

From behind one of the columns, a figure cloaked in an extravagant violet cloak and an equally extravagant hat emerged. "What was that, Gamov?"

Gamov turned back to the enveloped and picked it up. At first, he wasn't going to tell the Dark Disciple, but it did occur to him that he would want to know. Better it come from Gamov than anyone else. Regardless, he tossed the envelope into the fireplace behind his desk.

"It seems as though the Black Spiders, a small-time ninja clan here in Tairon, is planning to assassinate the Emperor and take the Dark Dragon Blade for their master." Gamov watched the flames consume the envelope, turning it to ash.

The Dark Disciple shifted. "And you are not going to inform the Emperor?"

Gamov turned to him. "Would you prefer that I did, my Excellency?"

There was a pause, and Gamov watched to see how the Dark Disciple would respond. On one hand, he might sympathize with the Emperor, what with him being his nephew, and ask him to at least warn Xtianius III. If this was the case, Gamov knew what he would have to do: he would have to find someone stronger. If that happened, it would be irrefutable that the Dark Disciple was not strong enough for the task at hand.

Gamov hoped that he hadn't had bad judgment. He hoped that the Dark Disciple was not weak.

The Dark Disciple finally responded. "No," he said resolutely. "You made the right choice."

Gamov nodded. "Still, my Excellency, this isn't an issue to be taken lightly. We're needed elsewhere." He took his hat from the mantle above the fireplace and placed it over his head, then headed for the door.

"And Gamov..."

He turned to face the Dark Disciple.

"Never again imply that I am weak. For your own sake."

Most people would have been terrified. Instead, Gamov simply smiled lightly. "Of course not, my Excellency."

**V**

Among the international community of historians, the origin of the Holy Vigoorian Empire is still debate. Some historians believe that the Vigoorian people are descendants of the Mongols, during the era of Genghis Khan's march through Europe and Asia.

Others believe they resulted from the splintering of the Persian Empire, following their defeat by the various Greek nation-states.

Each theory, while straightforward, leaves many things unexplained. Like the existence of ethnically-Japanese populations along the borders. Or why Vigoorians do not speak Arab as well as any Slavic languages.

In the nation itself, there is one theory, and it is widely accepted as fact.

It is, of course, the one presented by the clergy, the Holy Order of Vigoorian Monks.

Millennia ago, during what were considered the Chaotic Ages (similar to the Dark Ages, but considerably less calm), the deity Gurdu brought some sort of semblance into the region. This might have meant a god by the name of Gurdu created the Earth from the cosmic dusts. Or perhaps a people named the Gurdu first migrated to the empty region in central Asia, settled it, and uplifted themselves to deity status for the future generations. In the earliest parts of the Book of Genesis, there were references both to 'The Gurdu' as a peoples and 'Gurdu' as an individual. Either way, Gurdu (now known as singular by the end of the Book of Genesis) was not believed to have the capacity of Good or Evil, only Order. Gurdu then adopted status of Deity of the Lands, lands which were occupied by the Empire's ancestors, in human form or something similar.

These beings, humans or otherwise, followed the same path as most humans did with the earlier stages of development in a complex society. They domesticated animals, they adopted agriculture as a way of life, and so forth. They also began to form a common spiritual identity, and with this came the origin of all else that mattered in the present day.

Gurdu, and other deities, was thought to depend on the early beings just as they did on him. In any case, whether Gurdu actually existed or not, without worship, he and his kind would not be remembered long, and would effectively cease to exist. And they were worshipped, as was another. The early peoples began to develop animosity towards each other—animosity between the rich and poor, between the men and women, between the young and old. And from their spirituality, this animosity congealed into a deity-like form, so minute that it was believed Gurdu and his kind failed to notice it at first.

He was called Vigoor, a name that literally translated into 'The Hatred' in ancient languages. And unlike Gurdu, history did in fact state that Vigoor existed as a human, some time in the past, just like Julius Caesar, Ramses the Great, or Paul the Baptist. It was the clergy that held, with its usual zeal, that Vigoor was both Man and God.

This Vigoor, through either strategic brilliance or spiritual might, began to conquer the lands of Gurdu, as well as the occupants. Those years were characterized by strange scientific phenomena that are typically held as coincidental, such as earthquakes, solar and lunar eclipses, as well as sunspots. Many people were though to have perished from bad crop harvests.

The conflict (it could not be called war, since war was not supposed to have existed yet) between Vigoor and Gurdu might have not been between two gods, but rather, two peoples. The Gurdu, being the 'haves', were defeated by the Vigoor, the disgruntled 'have-nots'.

Eventually, Gurdu's land was conquered and he himself was split into four new beings, plunging the land back into the Chaotic Ages. Each of these four deities (or four factions, from the secular point of view) was said to embody some aspect of the conscious mind—Sentiment, Wisdom, Immortality, and Creation. After the great schism, all four of them possessed little power to stop Vigoor.

The Serpent, the Deity of Creation, was the first to become self-aware, and thus, a threat to Vigoor. And with becoming self-aware, the Serpent was thought to have given birth to the first forms of true life (or, from the realistic point of view, a generation very different from the one before). From there, the mysticism of history overwhelmed the fact. The life was said to have evolved into thirteen dragons. The beasts continued with the war against Vigoor, and began to succeed in banishing The Hatred. Vigoor himself was banished into demonic nether-regions, commonly referred to as 'Hell'.

But Vigoor was not defeated by the Dragons. One of their own stopped that from happening.

The Dragons, despite being 'siblings' in a loose sense of the word, were far from equal. The weakest of them eventually betrayed the others, allowing Vigoor to cling to existence in Hell. This one became known as the Dark Dragon.

In time, the Thirteenth Dark Dragon allied himself with Vigoor, giving the deity the power he needed to launch a successful counter-offensive against the Dragons. He reclaimed the lands of Gurdu he had lost, and began taking more, seemingly unstoppable. This conflict continued, even onto what the clergy argued was the origin of mankind, a never-ending battles between the forces of Vigoor and the Dark Dragon and those of Gurdu's Dragons.

But even deities grow old. Vigoor himself became the Holy Vigoorian Empire, a human institution headed by the Holy Vigoor Emperor, whom was supposed to be in possession of a direct bloodline with The Hatred and even his reincarnation in times of need.

The Dark Dragon was eventually slain, in a victory of Gurdu, and what was left of it was consolidated in the Dark Dragon Blade. Gurdu's Dragons became the Dragon Lineage, a human institution as well, specifically, the Dragon Ninja Clan.

These three parties still existed to this day. Like any long war, there were victories and defeats on each side. The Dragon Lineage had managed to hold onto the Dark Dragon for ages, but was unable (or perhaps unwilling) to retake the lands of Gurdu from the modern Vigoorian State. They were now humans, for the most part, having adopted the fighting styles of the Japanese Ninjitsu Arts as their weapon of choice centuries ago, and more closely related to the Japanese _shinobi_ than to their ancestors in the captured territories. Their hate for Vigoor has carried on to modern times. During the Second World War, when the Empire was officially neutral but did give what little food and supplies it could to Josef Stalin's Soviet Union (on the side of the Allies), these 'shinobi' went as far as to sabotage factories involved in creating the supplies, and were probably hoping that, with a Japanese victory in Manchuria, the Imperial Army would sweep through and remove the Vigoorian Emperor once and for all.

The Vigoorian State, even if it did consist almost entirely of humans, and even if it had abandoned mystical means of combat in favor of the rifle, tank, and the helicopter, was still Vigoor. It was Vigoor, with Parliament, with Bureaucracy, even with semi-democratic elections.

The only thing that had not evolved, it seemed, were the Fiends. The Fiends, for the Holy Vigoorian Empire, were a double-edged sword. Empire-building is difficult, especially for a demonic being. If the Empire is one that will eventually rule over men, it is best that the Emperor be a man himself, if only in the figurative sense. The Greater Fiends, originally led by the Supreme Fiend Gogohn, had been instrumental in the transition from Vigoor to Vigoorian Empire. It was said that the Zarkhan Palace itself was built by the hands of Gogohn, as a gift to the now-human Emperor. When Gogohn was forced to remain in Hell, where he was said to be vigilantly guarding the Emperor (or whatever one did in Hell), he was ultimately succeeded by Doku, a former Japanese _shogun_.

On the other, common Fiends, mutated freaks of nature, were regarded as pests in the Empire. They acted entirely on their own will, behaving like the beasts of the Chaotic Times, though Doku was said to have some very limited control over them at times. During the Middle Ages (when the problem of Fiends grew particularly bad), the Empire had begun creating a human-based Fiend Hunter Corps. The Fiend Hunter Corps consisted of both men and women who relied less on the popular steel armor of the time and more or the strength of their own bodies, wearing little clothing for better maneuverability, which they needed thanks to their massive weapons, like the War Hammer. A few were still thought to exist, though they were obviously not sanctioned by the Vigoorian Government.

_And with all of this, lays the path of history for the Holy Vigoorian Empire, up to the present._

Emperor Xtianius III stared at the long passage written in the margins of Miriam's copy of the Book of the Future.

He finally understood. He understood everything. Everything that had led up to what was happening now, outside the walls of the Palace. He had never realized the sheer scale of what was happening, and even now, it was still more than a little mind-boggling. He fell down into a chair at the desks and let his head fall back. It was mentally exhaustive.

_So, if my plan is to work, I must believe in this mysticism. I must put behind all the rational and logical thought of the modern times, and think as Vigoor did. As I did._

"My Excellency, would you like some tea?"

He turned, nearly jerking himself out of the chair. Miriam stood with a tray before him, amongst the stacks of books and documents.

"Yes, thank you," he mumbled as she gave him one. He took a deep whiff of it and began drinking it.

"Careful, sir, it's hot."

Xtanius nodded, setting the cup down when he had finished. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, your Excellency."

He turned back to the book. "This...it does explain. But that might not be such a good thing," he mumbled in a melancholy tone. "I never really understood with what forces I was toying with until now." He turned to her. "Do you know that, at this very moment, a shinobi, Ryu Hayabusa, is running about, slaughtering army soldiers and anyone who comes in his path?"

Miriam nodded. She had heard news from the soldiers around the Zarkhan. "He's a very bad man."

Xtanius shook his head. "And that's the worse part, he's not bad. _Nothing_ is 'bad' anymore, besides what's bad for one's health or bad for the economy or something unimportant like that. 'Bad' and 'evil' are relative terms. The Emperor, _me_, who's suppose to be God…the monks not only declare that I am to be evil, but relish it. It's not 'bad', it's just the way things are! Vigoor was inherently bad, and thus, he was great! Twenty thousand years, and we can't even overcome the status quo."

He stared at the wall, which bore a painting that was an artist's interpretation of what Gogohn looked like. "Nothing changes here. Everything remains the same in the lands of Gurdu. It doesn't matter who advance or intelligent we are, the fighting between machine guns and samurai swords is the same as the fighting between sticks and rocks thousands of years ago."

He turned directly at Miriam, staring at her. "You know in Israel, they have a word for 'peace'? It's the Hebrew word 'shalom'." He sighed. "The ancient Vigoorian language has no word for 'peace', no counterpart to 'shalom'. And I finally understand why. It's because 'peace' is a concept that's not comprehendible to Vigoor or to the Dragon Lineage. If we want to talk about it, we have to use a foreign word. And in the country that uses 'shalom', they have tanks flattening children and suicide bombers bombing cafes. And yet, here we are," he said, gesturing to the walls of the room. "Our own little self-contained world, the world of Vigoor, of Gurdu, of Gogohn and all those other names that shouldn't matter anymore, but they _still do_."

The Emperor hung his head down, leaving the aide to stare at him. Miriam had no idea how to act—all she knew about how the Emperor _was _were through newspapers and press releases, and all she knew about how the Emperor _should be _was through the holy texts. She had no idea _who _he was. "It's...it's all just so hopeless, Miriam. If we were truly human, we would have resolved our differences…or been consumed in a sea of fire. And yet, we cannot burn ourselves out."

Carefully, she reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You know…I was very sad when I heard your father finally died. And I was heartbroken when I heard your brother died as well. But…at the same time, I cried when I heard that a tribe called the Hayabusa Clan had been slaughtered by mysterious warriors. This...this isn't a war. Wars end, sooner or later. This _conflict _is so much greater than any of us…it's as ancient as the conflict between the fluids inside and outside of a cell membrane. And it's just as fundamental. I…If I am to believe these books, I don't think it can ever be ended." She smiled sadly. "And you are born to be part of that conflict."

Emperor Xtianius III looked up. "But what if I could?" he asked in a small voice.

Miriam stared at him, unable to respond.

"I have the Dark Dragon Blade in my possession. I ordered it taken from the Hayabusa Clan, and to have them all slaughtered if necessary. What if I let the Dragon Lineage finally win, if I let Ryu Hayabusa destroy until he is content or dead, and give him back the Dark Dragon. Wouldn't it be a small price to pay, the death of Vigoor, the razing of Tairon…wouldn't _anything _be a small price to pay for knowing that the future generations would finally be free of what we never could be?"

He stood up, knocking down the teacup. He spoke somberly, slowly, and with tears streaming from his eyes. "I came here…for your help…because I needed to finish a plan. A plan that would free me of being the Emperor. I never wanted to be Emperor in the first place. I knew what I was going to do was selfish, and I didn't care. I just wanted revenge, and a way out. But now I realize…those weren't my thoughts. They were Vigoor's. They were the thoughts of my blood, the blood that courses through my veins."

He turned back to her. "So, am I like every other Emperor before me? Am I just some pawn of the Ancient Hatred? Something that will never die, so it will never stop?"

The Emperor gasped for air, clawing at his throat, when he seemed to notice something. He inspected his left hand, or specifically, the ring around his left ring finger. It bore the seal of the Holy Vigoor Emperor, and he remembered that it was the Ring of Vigoor, a ceremonial artifact passed down through centuries to each Emperor from his father.

He stared at it, at the gleaming jewel, something foul and old, and then began to tear it from his finger, finally pulling it free. He then took Miriam's hand and placed it inside.

"Wha…what are you doing, sir?"

"Here. Take this. Take it, find some rich foreigner, and sell it to them. Take the money, and leave. Go find somewhere else. Anywhere but here. Even if Hayabusa doesn't kill all of us, it won't change the fact that this is Hell on Earth. We can't all escape. But maybe you can." He placed her hand against her breast, nodded, and spun around, his cloaks flowing after him.

"W-Wait! What about you, sir?"

Vigoor turned to her. "I'm weak. There's no way I'm strong enough to withstand the blood of centuries, the blood of Vigoor. But I would still like to try." He continued walking away, his shoulders hunched over.

"Perhaps, for the first time in my life, for the first time in Vigoor, I might do something worthwhile."

**Author's Notes:**

To Me, Kurmoi, and any of the few other souls who actually might read this.

Needless to say, I read your comments on my reviews, and being the "hands-on" sort of fanfic writer that I am (hissing and booing is heard in the background) I was more than happy to address them.

Now, first things first: who/what exactly is that two-formed boss that our man Ryu fights before the final encounter? Well, I did some research (playing through _Ninja Gaiden's_ last four chapters), and I am ready to present my case.

First, we can establish who it _isn't_: it _isn't _Alma. Sorry Rachel/Alma fans, our favorite Human-turned-Greater Fiend cannot take the honors of being probably the game's most spectacular looking boss (though, arguably, Alma can boast being the hardest). Why? Think back to shortly after the fight with the Flame Dragon Boss, when Ryu returns to the Hayabusa Village via what I will call 'telepipes' (PSO, anyone?). Shortly after taking the jewel from his diseased friend's grave, the scene switches, and we see what is clearly the Dark Dragon Blade held between the gigantic hands of that final Angelic fiend. Note that this is shortly before Ryu's second battle with Alma, in which Alma transforms from her humanoid form into that of a giant arthropod (or something). In short, it's not Alma, not unless Ryu is seeing a vision of the future, after his battle with Alma's second form. Seeing how Ryu has never seen into the future at any other point in _Ninja Gaiden_ (otherwise, he would have marched right up to Murai's fortress and burned the whole thing down, I'd say), I think it's safe to assume that that's not the case.

Returning to Alma, I will answer Me's question. As much as I like a good joke at the expense of filthy rich and corrupt corporate CEOs (which I do, make no mistake, heh), I'm afraid you're mistaking. I've heard many theories about what happens to Alma after Ryu's second battle, when she returns to her humanoid form (presumably, a genetic twin of Rachel). Some argue she dies immediately afterwards, while other's say that she and Rachel probably just hid out in Tairon until the later went off to pull Ryu's butt out of the fire (or specifically, that gigantic hole in the ground). I believe she survived, simply because she opened her eyes to see Rachel, rather than closing them after seeing her, and it wouldn't be entirely unpleasant if Rachel appeared as a human in the next _Ninja Gaiden_.

To get to the point (heh), I'm pretty darn sure it's not Alma. Granted, there _is _a _very _slight resemblance, kind of the same way Lisa looks like Nikki in _DOA: Extreme Beach Volleyball_, but it's an awful stretch.

Now, if I can assume it's not Alma, I can move onto the next point: proving that it's the Emperor. It's never said that the Fiend itself is the Emperor...however, it is definitely associated with the Holy Vigoor Emperor. The Fiend resides underneath the Imperial Palace. He/she is guarded by the Supreme Fiend Gogohn (the satanic-looking figure that resides in the purplish Hell you reach via the telepipes), and according to the various books found in the Dwoku Monastery, passages from the loading times for save games, and even Rachel herself, Gogohn, one of the three Greater Fiends, guards the Emperor. Guilt by association. I realize there is an argument that the Dark Disciple Murai is the Emperor (after all, Gamov refers to him as 'Excellency'), but that would contradict with the story line—throughout the story, it is repeated over and over again, until the point that it's branded into our brains, that the Dark Dragon Blade is in the hands Emperor, yet throughout the story, Murai indicates clearly that he is depending on Ryu for two major things: to supply the killing that will fuel the Blade, and to deliver it to him eventually.

So, logic says that the angelic fiend is the Emperor. Of course, logic has been wrong in the past, but as a fanfic writer, I have to make a rational assumption if I'm to write a story for what is, in all fairness, a relatively shallow, if awesome, action game (beats himself over the head with a stick). I personally think it's the Emperor, and unless Team Ninja itself releases a public statement declaring me wrong, I'm probably going to keep thinking that it is, out of sheer convenience. I could be wrong, but I don't think I am.

As for strategy guides...now, _Official Xbox Magazine _isn't endorse by Team Ninja, but then again, neither is that strategy guide more than likely (and if it is, it shouldn't be taken too seriously...just think of how many _Final Fantasy VII_ strategy guides were endorsed by Squaresoft, heh). A strategy guide can more or less say what it wants about minute, unimportant details like that, and one shouldn't take it literally. A strategy guide, unless it's purpose is specifically to clear up misconceptions rather than advise the player in strategies to beat the game, is not a reference item. There _is _no real reference item besides the game itself.

Besides, I'm the fanfic's original creator. Heh.

And if _Excel Saga _has taught us anything, the creator can do whatever he likes, that is, until the director and support staff replace him in a coup.

Anyway, this fic turned from a story about the Emperor into a long, boring monologue about the history of Vigoor. I was planning to throw something in about when the Emperor becomes…well, what he becomes, but I didn't get around to it (I'm moving into my dorm in too days, I'm a little busy, heh).

Still, I guess it came out okay. READ AND REVIEW! And notice, I didn't use the word 'destiny' in it once in the actual story. :)


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